Slight Confusion
by Oliver's Cupcakes
Summary: Prussia had no idea that France was his birdie's 'father.' /Silly little oneshot inspired by a tumblr post. PruCan with Papa France. Enjoy.


It was an innocent suggestion, really. Not something that should be trivial or confusing in an every day setting. The two of them had been calmly enjoying pancakes that morning, an everyday breakfast, when Matthew brought it up.

"You know, you should probably meet my dad at some point."

And it didn't seem trivial or confusing to Gilbert, at least when Matthew first asked. He'd explained long ago that he had little to know recollection of any country that had served as a 'parent' to him, and had been raised by his grandfather, affectionately dubbed Vati by he and his brother. Matthew had met Gilbert's small family, and Gilbert was already good friends with Matthew's American brother, Alfred. Matthew often talked about his father, retelling funny events from his childhood and more recent things. He never mentioned the country's name or human name, which didn't really bother the Prussian too much. He was just glad that his birdie had such happy memories of his 'childhood,' even if they ended prematurely.

"I guess that's not a bad idea," he said finally, swallowing his bite of pancake. "Being aquatinted and all that awesome stuff is important. Why don't we do that today?" He looked directly at Matthew for the last part. They didn't have any plans for themselves as people and were rarely needed country wise; even Canada's government forgot that he was a person most of the time and, well, Prussia wasn't a country any more, no matter how much Gilbert denied it. "I guess.. You know what, let's do it. It can't end that badly.. he's the kind of guy who loves everyone, and when I say love I don't mean he's super friendly, he seriously flirts with everyone. I think you'd get along well." Somehow this thought frightened him a bit.

Gilbert smirked a little as he stood, rinsing his plate off in the sink. "Sounds a little like another guy I know. Let's do it. Call him up and invite us over, or get him over here." He paused for a moment, glancing around the messy kitchen and living room. "Damn, birdie, I need to clean this place up. Invite us to his house." Matthew couldn't help but laugh at the albino. Being a neat freak as well as being lazy turned out an interesting combination, but that was Gilbert for you. "I'll call. Go put some clothes on."

Probably a good suggestion, as Gilbert was still in a pair of black-and-white fluffy sleep pants with little birds on them, shirtless, with his hair a ruffled mess.

And so the nation of Prussia left the room, leaving Matthew to call up Francis Bonnefoy. _How am I going to ask him this.._ He didn't bother to think over it much as he clicked the name in his contacts list; he would cross that Brie when he came to it. Three.. Two..

"Bonjour! Matthieu, is it really you? It's been so long since you last called! How are you? How is that boyfriend of yours? And Alfred? Oh, and-"

"Papa, shut your mouth. For five seconds." He paused for a moment before politely adding, "S'il vous plaît."

The use of French quickly quieted the blond on the other end of the phone. "Alright, why did you really call?" Matthew gave a sigh of relief. Sometimes his family knew how to react. "We were just talking at breakfast and I realized you've never met my boyfriend. We were wondering if we could come over and do that toda-"

Matthew was interrupted by a literal squeal._Ridiculous.._ "Of course, Matthieu! That would be amazing, you should both come over here immediately! I'll get some wine and the two of you come over whenever you're ready." There was a small beep as Francis hung up on him. Matthew could really only blink in confusion. "That man is so confusing sometimes," he murmured as he entered the bedroom to find a fully-dressed Prussia. "Hey," he greeted, pulling out one of his nicer sweatshirts for himself and a pair of jeans. "He said we could come." _And the understatement of the century award goes to.._ "Good. I'm ready when you are." Matthew rolled his eyes; he'd always been the slower one to get ready.

Within half an hour Matthew was dressed and ready to go; he'd tried in vain to tame his hair but it was still curly and retained the ever-present 'evil curl of doom' that Gilbert was so infatuated with. Gilbert, as usual, was driving to the airport; luckily they'd been staying in Germany and not Canada and so they'd been able to get tickets relatively easily. Not to mention that being a nation had it's benefits. The plane ride itself was interesting, to say in the least.

Matthew and Gilbert had seats next to each other, and Matthew was only a little bored. He'd been on many airplane trips in his life time, so he knew how to entertain himself with a good book. Gilbert, on the other hand, acted like a seven year old on a plane even though Matthew suspected Gilbert had flown far more times than himself. He twiddled his thumbs, alternated between Flappy Bird and Temple Run, and even began braiding Matthew's hair at one point. It really got interesting when the flight attendant came by.

"Sir, would you like some peanuts?" Matthew assumed that was the moment when Gilbert decided to have some fun.

"Peanuts, you say?" He grinned, eyeing the nurse as if through a monocle and suddenly doing a very interesting impression of Arthur's accent. "Hmm, and just what _kind_ of peanuts?"

"Um.. Salted? There's not really much I can use to describe them. They're regular, every day air plane peanuts."

Gilbert accepted a package of peanuts, opened it, and pulled out a single peanut, examining it very closely. "Hmm. Looks suspicious."

"Might I ask how so?" Matthew was pretty sure this was amusing the flight attendant as well, if not annoying her.

"Well, look here, the pattern formed in the salt. Looks like numbers to me. How can you be sure this isn't some secret code, an identification number or the experiment number?"

"Sir, I assure you that is a completely ordinary peanut."

That was when it got hilarious. Gilbert promptly stood up, dramatically leaning back and pointing a finger at the attendant as he yelled, "So you are absolutely sure this peanut has no relations with the government whatsoever?!"

She was giggling by now. "Yes, sir."

Gilbert calmly sat down, popping the peanut into his mouth. "Oh. Have a nice day then." The red faced, laughing flight attendant left in more than a hurry. Gilbert leaned casually over to Matthew, whispering.

"She must be in league with the peanut."

~TimeskipOfGovermentPeanuts~

There they were, driving down a street in Paris in a rented car. Matthew knew the way by memory, but Gilbert insisted on driving, so the Canadian was content with giving directions. "Turn left on this corner." However, Matthew couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Gilbert right now. And he was right. A small voice in the back of Gilbert's mind said _You know this place,_ but a louder, awesomer voice said, _That's stupid, you've never been here._ And then they arrived.

The nostalgic, 'I know this place' feeling only got stronger as they walked up the pathway. _Wait, it can't be.._

But it was.

The door swung open and there he was, Francis in his full blond glory with a glass of wine in hand. And there by his precious Matthieu stood Gilbert Beillschmidt. There was a sudden spray of wine from the Frenchman's mouth. The two spluttered for a bit.

"G-"

"Fr-"

"P-"

"It's-"

"No way-"

"You're-"

"He didn't-"

And then silence. Wide, confused blue eyes stared into equally conflicted red ones.

_I am dating my best friend's son._

_My best friend is dating my son._

_I feel like a kid now._

_I feel old._

Meanwhile, Matthew was left on the edge of the doorway to cluelessly observe this silent battle of wills. The only thought running through his head was, _What the hell is going on?_


End file.
